


A Lesser of Two Evils

by ComeOn_Relax



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood, Dark, F/M, This is a rough ride, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-06 19:42:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17351402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComeOn_Relax/pseuds/ComeOn_Relax
Summary: With a new threat on the rise, a plan is created that will either save the world or destroy it.--Posted on here with  permission from original author on wattpad.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> the author known as cryptzlgy on wattpad has kindly allowed me to post this fic on here!

The grating laughter that bounces off the walls of the cell that Dallon enters is loud and startles him at first. 

"What can I do for you?" The voice is soft and hoarse as though the man in chains had been screaming. Dallon swallows thickly and doesn't answer for a while. The man lets out a softer chuckle this time. "Something's coming." The man answers for him. "Something's coming that your seers have never seen before. You're concerned, aren't you?"

"You're perceptive as ever." The smile slips from the man's lips and his eyes harden.

"You've kept me in here for so long. You must think I've lost a few of my tricks." Dallon shakes his head.

"No. I know you, you would never allow something like that to get rusty." The man shrugs as best as he can against the straight jacket. "What do you know?"

The man's lips curl into a smile and his teeth glint in the darkness, his shadow growing in size as it carefully makes its way to Dallon. The shadow stops just a few inches from Dallon and he spares a glance at the restrained man whose eyes have rolled back and are shining white in the darkness.

The shadow grins, all teeth, and malice.

"You will not beat this." The voice is heavy and low, nothing like the man on the ground. "You will die."

"Let me guess. We need you to help us?"

"That pains you to say, doesn't it?" Dallon is silent, weighing his options. He shakes his head and the shadow frowns. 

"We're not letting you out. We don't need your help."

"Then perish."


	2. 1

_2 Months Later_

"What is that?" Pete breathes out, eyes tracking the movements of the object that rests in the sky.

"Something old," Dallon whispers, causing Pete to give him a look of confusion and concern.

"Old? That thing looks like it's from the future." Dallon's eyes sweep to meet Pete's for a moment before dragging over to Brendon who shakes his head. "How do you know it's old?" Pete asks, trying not to read into the looks that the two are giving each other. 

"It could be from the future," Brendon whispers, still locking eyes with Dallon. Dallon chews on his lip for a moment. "He's the only one that would know." Dallon shakes his head.

"No." He clenches his hands into tight balls. "We don't need him."

"Dal-" Brendon starts to try to reason, but Pete inserts himself back into the conversation.

"Who are you talking about?" Dallon and Brendon freeze, speaking to each other with their eyes and it's Dallon who cracks.

He sighs and turns to Pete who shifts his stance and crosses his arms.

"Someone who might be able to help us." Pete's eyes widen. "But we don't need him." Dallon grinds out, looking back at Brendon with a fire in his eyes. Brendon rolls his eyes and looks at Pete.

"Gather your team." Dallon groans and slumps a little. "You're going to need to fill them in and it'll be easier to do that when they're all here together." Pete nods and pulls his phone out, his fingers speeding across the keyboard. Dallon turns to Brendon at that moment.

"We can't let them meet." He whispers.

"Why not?"

"We don't know what could happen."

"That's a risk we're going to have to take. We never know what's going to happen with that guy. The seers, prophets, psychics? None of them could ever get a read on him. No one knows what's up with him. Just that he's crazy."

"And who's fault is that?" Dallon asks, his stormy eyes drilling holes into Brendon's own calm ones. "He's in there because of us." Brendon shakes his head.

"He's there because of our super secret boy band." 

"Did you just quote-"

"And maybe we can change him." Brendon interrupts him, stepping forward carefully. Dallon shakes his head.

"He's a powder keg waiting to explode."

"You really think he can't change?" The silence that follows is brief. Pete enters their conversation with his own loud voice. 

"They'll be here tomorrow." Dallon and Brendon break their staring contest and look at Pete whose face creases in concern. "What's wrong?" Pete takes a step forward, trying to gauge their reactions. "Is it that bad?"

"We really don't want you to meet our guy," Dallon tells him cautiously. Brendon claps a hand onto Dallons shoulder. 

"Dallon doesn't want you to meet him, but I think it would be a very good idea for you to meet him. Maybe you can help us clear his head."

"I don't understand," Pete replies, thoughts curling in his mind as to what this guy could be.

"You will."


	3. 2

The tension that covers the hallway and the three men walking is thicker than fog, and Pete doesn't know what to do about it. Pete can't take the silence anymore and sucks in a breath before speaking.

"So, what's going on exactly?" He asks, glancing back and before between Dallon and Brendon. "Who's this guy you're not wanting me to meet?"

"He's a monster," Dallon whispers out and Brendon growls at him.

"No, he's not!" He yells, eliciting a flinch from Dallon. "He was never a monster." Brendon grinds out softer than before. "We made him what he is today. It's not his fault and you know it."

"I'm guessing there's a longer story somewhere in there that you're not going to tell me yet." Brendon shakes his head, glancing for a second more at Dallon before looking at Pete.

"We won't tell you anything unless it's with him." Pete nods and continues following the two through the long hallway.

The three stop in front of heavily guarded doors. Dallon pulls out the badge he rarely has to use and the guards move to open the gates. There's an awful screeching as the bolts and hinges undo. A cold gust of wind escapes and Armstrong is the first one through. The three stare at one last door. It's metal, and there a slit on the door so that you could peer in if you wanted to. Armstrong cleared his throat and there was light shuffling from the other side of the door.  

"Shit," Pete whispers out, looking into the room. It's cold and dark and definitely not somewhere Pete wants to be stuck in for more than three minutes. His eyes sweep the room and land on a shape.  There's a man in there. For a moment, all Pete can see is a mop of brown hair, a dirty straight jacket and a collar with a chain that's hooked to the wall. Pete hears Brendon's sharp intake of breath and it's then that the head lifts.  

Pete meets the eyes of the man and he feels as though his soul has left his body. The piercing blue of them roots him to his spot. The man smiles and it's then that Pete notices the metal gag. Blood drips from the edges of it and Pete takes a careful step back. The man cocks his head and seems to smile, allowing more blood to drip from the corners.

"Patrick?" Brendon asks, taking a careful step forward before stopping abruptly when the man, Patrick it seems, whips his head to meet Brendon's eyes. The smile drops and the droplets of blood plop quietly to the ground. Patrick's eyebrows twitch and he cocks his head again, though this time it seems less menacing. Brendon shoots a soft and careful smile at Patrick and takes a few more cautious steps towards the man. Brendon's eyes shift slightly locking onto the shadow that connects to the bound man. 

Brendon kneels down in front of Patrick and runs a hand through the man's dirty hair. Brendon swallows thickly and moves his hands down to the gag.

"We need your help." Patrick smiles again and this time, his body shakes as laughter escapes the gag. Pete recoils back and into Dallon who holds him steady. Pete can feel the heavy breathing of Dallon against his back. "I know. I know Dallon didn't believe you. I know. But we need your help, please." Brendon whispers, unclasping the gag and holding it lightly in his hands as he backs away slowly, keeping his gaze on the shadow.

Patrick's laugh is more vocal now and it grates on Pete's nerves.

"Please? Are you pleading? Pleading after I warned you something was coming months ago." Patrick's voice is hoarse and is painful to listen to. He lifts his head then, his eyes rolling back into his head and the shadow comes to life, gliding across the floor and growing in size until it lands in front of three.

"You did not heed my warning before, why would you do it this time?" Pete's surprised at the sound that comes from the shadow's voice, but has no time to think about it as Brendon speaks.

"We need your help. If you do, you get to be out. We'll let you out." The shadow seems to think, then cocks it's head and shrinks back to its host. Patrick deflates for a moment then straightens up again.

"You'll let me out?" He asks, testing the words out on his tongue. "After all these years, you'll let me leave?"

"Only if you help us," Dallon says, stepping forward towards the man. Patrick narrows his eyes.

"For how long?" Dallon pauses. "Your ancestors said the same thing, and then they threw me back in here and started the process over again. Pain and misery and death all over again for years and years." Patrick's voice shakes and Pete thinks he can see tears in his eyes. 

"You'll stay out forever and you'll never be hurt again." Patrick's eyes flicker for a moment at Brendon's words. He blinks and smiles, all teeth and cracked lips that allow the blood to flow freely again.

"Is that a promise?" He asks, quietly locking eyes with Brendon. Brendon doesn't flinch, he doesn't even move, but Pete can see Dallon twitch with anxiety.

"Always."

"Well then Seer," Patrick says eyes glowing brightly as they roll back again and his voice joins his shadow's in a nightmare fueled orchestra. "on your head be it."


	4. 3

Pete watches from his seat at the table as his team sorts themselves through the door. Andy enters first with Meredith trailing close behind (both witches). Joe files in as well with Marie one step behind him (healers). Then it's Sarah and Breezy (respected Sorcerers both married to two idiots). 

"I still can't believe you managed to get our wives to fight with you," Brendon mumbles, watching the two enter as though they owned the place (in Breezy's case, she kind of did).  Pete shrugs and smiles at the who smile back with radiance glowing about them. 

"I just got lucky." Brendon rolls his eyes at the answer and goes to sit with Sarah. Breezy waits around for Dallon, but when it becomes apparent he wouldn't be there for a while, she sits and doesn't save a spot for him.

"So, boys" Meredith starts, leaning her head against Andy's shoulder. Breezy and Sarah also take on calm stances in their seats and watches the men of the group with wary eyes. "what's all this about?" She finishes, crossing one leg over the other in a picture of sophisticated grace that only she could pull off. 

Brendon and Pete lock eyes, and Brendon sheepishly looks towards Breezy.

"We might have someone that can help us with our problem." He speaks to the whole team, but his eyes remain on Breezy who sits up straighter and narrows her eyes at the seer. 

"Don't tell me you still have that poor man locked up." She whispers in a deadly tone. Brendon swallows nervously and shrinks in his seat.

"We do." Comes Dallon's voice. He locks eyes with his wife and tries not to show how intimidated he is by the sheer malice in her eyes. It's no use for she stands and stalks to Dallon. He's got a few inches on her, but she still manages to strike fear into everyone in the room.

"You said you let him go." She punctuates each word with an impatient tap of her finger on her thigh. 

"That I did."

"You lied."

"Yes." 

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't he?" A new voice enters, but Pete knows the voice now. It's Patrick, but Pete's taken back by how he looks. They've cleaned him up. His mousy brown hair is clean from dirt and blood and his wounds around his mouth are fixed up as well. He's dressed in a simple shirt and pants though still manages to look frightening in a sense. "He wouldn't want his beloved to know he's kept a poor human locked away and tortured in secrecy." His voice is laced with mockery, but he smiles his sharp smile and looks around the room.

There are men holding him tight and he's got his hands bound, but for some reason, Pete knows that won't do anything to stop him from harming anyone.

"Breezy darling," He continues, smiling widely at her and allowing a little white to shine through as his shadow glides to her. Breezy regards it with a smile as calm as a summer breeze. "long time no see. My privilege to have visitors seems to have been terminated. But that was what? Ten years ago?"

"I'm sorry." That's all Breezy says and Patrick's smile doesn't falter. Not even when he's forcefully pressed down into a chair. He regards everyone in the room cooly and doesn't flinch when a gun is pointed at his head. In fact, he laughs and turns his head upwards.

"What's that going to do?" The gun cocks and Patrick smiles wider. "Oh, I see. You're threatening me? I've not done anything yet." A look of recollection passes over Patrick's face. "Oh, I remember you." The guard's grip tightens and no one moves. Not Pete, not his team. Not Dallon or Brendon. "You're the one with the kid, right?"

The gun goes off with a bang and Patrick's head snaps back further and it's all Pete can do to stop from vomiting on the floor. 

But Patrick's shoulders shake and laughter rips from his throat. He tosses his head forward and the blood pours onto the table. He whips around and Pete sees a flash of white.

Everything happens so fast.

Patrick's shadow grips the gun and rips it from the guard's stunned hand. Patrick comes back to himself in a fit of laughter as the gun lands in one of his now unbound hands. Faster than Pete thought possible for a man that looks so tired and ill,  Patrick lifts the gun and cocks it, aiming it at the guard. Patrick frowns and cocks his head at the shaking guard.

"Tell her I said 'hello'."

He fires point blank.

The guard drops.


	5. 4

"Must you be so dramatic?" Breezy asks, regarding the dead guard with disgust laced in her eyes. Patrick blinks and puts the gun on the table before plopping down in the chair and crossing one leg over the other.

Patrick shrugs and places his hands in his lap before looking around at the others in the room.

"He just killed someone and you're asking why he's dramatic?!" Pete yells, one hand over his stomach and other gesturing wildly at Patrick. The man in question rolls his eyes and smiles at Sarah who smiles back.

Patrick doesn't flinch when the second guard pulls a gun on him. Instead, he sits cooly as Sarah's eyes flash and the gun flies out of the guard's hand. 

"I suggest you leave," Patrick states, keeping his gaze trained on the table in front of him. He listens to the frantic pounding of feet on the floor and the crash of some person being run into.

Dallon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I let you out so you could help us, not so you could kill people."

"What did you expect darling?" Patrick asks, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "You let me out. Forever, might I remind you. Or, did you forget the promise your Seer gave to me? You wouldn't want anything to happen to him, would you? I hear they're awfully rare these days." Patrick finally sniffs and looks around. "Things have changed. I don't like it."

Sarah rolls her eyes and waves her hand, covering up the body of the guard and eyeing Pete with concern.

"You good?" Pete swallows thickly, trying to keep the bile down.

"I've only just met you, but I'm honestly confused as to how you managed to be the leader of your pathetic team."

"Hey!" Joe calls out, taking obvious offense to being called 'pathetic'. Patrick turns his mocking smile towards him and points to the pair of healers. 

"Can you fight?" Joe seems taken aback by the question, but it's Marie who answers.

"Yes." Patrick blinks and turns his smile softer.

"I should hope so. I understand you two are healers which usually makes you the weakest in terms of fighting. Something is coming and it will require everyone to fight."

"Can I ask a question?" Patrick blinks once, then twice as he turns his head to Pete.

"You're annoying me." He says, frowning harshly and watching his shadow loom over Pete. Pete's bravery had seemed to return and he asks another question.

"Actually, can I ask two questions?"

"This isn't a get-to-know-you game." Patrick pauses and creases his forehead. "Those still exist, right?" Silence echoes around the room and Patrick groans, pushing himself up off the chair and walking around. "Fine. All you need to know is that I'm old, tired and annoyed. There is something coming that we won't be able to stop unless you listen to me." Patrick's shadow takes his spot behind Patrick and follows his movements.

"You don't look-"

"Shut up." Patrick snaps, silencing Joe quickly before he could complete the observation. "I know, listening to me is the last thing you want, Director," Patrick says, turning his attention to Dallon who's taken to just leaning against the wall and watching the scene play out before him. "but this won't stop unless you listen. It might be hard to go against the ways of your ancestors, but you're going to have to work with me." Dallon is silent as he watches the room. He lets his eyes wander from person to person, before ending on Breezy who nods her head carefully. Patrick smiles. "I would listen to your wife." Though his head is focused on Dallon the whole time, he seems to know what's happening between the two.

Dallon takes a deep breath in, then nods.

"Fine." Patrick smiles wider and relaxes his stance. "But no more killing unless absolutely necessary."

Patrick frowns, pouting like a child and crossing his arms. Then he mumbles softly.

"You're no fun at all."


	6. 5

"So," Patrick rolls his eyes as Pete starts, obviously ready to engage in some sort of conversation that Patrick won't want to be part of. "when you shot that guard, you said something about a girl?"

There's a pause that takes over the room. Pete and Patrick are the only ones in there as Pete's supposed to catch Patrick up on things that have happened recently. 

"What about her?" Patrick takes on a defensive stance that Pete barely notices since they're both sitting.

"Did you kill her? It seems like you did." Patrick blinks and turns his attention fully toward Pete.

"Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. All you need to know is that she's dead, and there's nothing that can change that." The hardness in Patrick's voice makes Pete flinch slightly, but he covers it up and leans towards Patrick.

"What are you?" He asks, attempting to change the subject, but Patrick rolls his eyes.

"You can think of me as the lesser of two evils." He supplies, smiling his toothy smile as he does. "The thing that's coming? Or rather, the thing that's here is worse than I am. Think about it like this. Villains have their rankings, just like heroes. Some are stronger than others, some more powerful and deadly. The creature that appeared is number one on that list." Patrick cocks his head, his smile dimming slightly. "Do you know who number two is?" Pete gulps as his eyes catch a movement made by Patrick's shadow.

"You?" He asks, his voice taking on a slightly higher pitch.

"Smart boy. You're going to catch on quickly."

"This worries me." Patrick nods and leans back in his chair.

"It should."

"You can't die." Patrick shakes his head.

"No."

"That means the other creature is going to be impossible to get rid of." Pete pauses in his thinking. "Is it even worth it to try?" He asks forehead creasing, and body leaning forward. "I mean, there's no way we're going to kill this thing. Not even with you with us. I just don't see it happening."

"Peter, come now. You must attempt to be more optimistic."

"Oh, cause you're a ray of sunshine and optimism," Pete mumbles, garnering a glare from the man in front of him. Pete winces and slouches in his seat. 

"We will win. We have to." 

"You seem awfully sure about that," Pete says, brows creasing in confusion. "Why?" Patrick's smile grows to fit more teeth in the action.

"Because I've done it before, years ago."


	7. 6

_"What did you do?" He asks in a shocked whisper as tears run down his face. The man in front of him who can barely be recognized through all the blood that covers his face flicks his eyes around._

_"What I had to do to keep you all safe." The man replies in a monotonous tone._

_"But this-"_

_"Is what was prophesied. You can't change it. I know you can't." There's a pause there that does nothing to fill the void that burrows itself in his body. "I'm sorry. Believe me when I say that." The man finishes and blinks slowly, shifting the gun that hangs limply from his broken, bloody hand._

_"I forgive you." The man sends him a tired smile and nods, bringing the hand that holds the gun up. The muzzle rests against his bloody temple. "Don't."_

_The gun fires._

Brendon shoots up from his bed, sweat dripping down his temples and his breathing ragged as he gulps down air. He grips his chest tightly, still trying to comprehend what happened. 

That wasn't the future. It can't be.

"Brendon?" Sarah asks, walking into the room slowly. Her eyes are flooded with concern as she takes the final step to the bed. "What did you see?" Brendon's breathing slows and he shudders out a breath. 

"I need to see Patrick." Sarah's face hardens but she doesn't try to oppose the idea. She waits calmly for him as he gets out of bed and puts on his clothing. 

"Is it bad?" Brendon shakes his head, then stops and shrugs.

"I have to talk to Patrick. He's the only one that can determine that." The rest of the walk to where Patrick's quarters are is silent. 

When they arrive, Brendon pauses with his fist raised and ready to knock against the door.

"If you're going to knock, you might as well do it." Comes Patricks voice from inside the room. The door opens and Patrick's standing there, though the look on his face almost makes Brendon recoil. It's dull and sad, the bags under his eyes seem to reveal something Brendon thought he wouldn't have seen from the man. "What's wrong?" He asks, moving aside and letting the couple into the room. "I assume you've had a vision of sorts?"

"How did you-"

"It's obvious," Patrick states, cutting Sarah off quickly. He shuts the door and stands by it, not making any move to go towards the two. "The only reason you would have to come to see me is if you've seen something. That, and you're still breathing heavily." Patrick pauses. "Well?"

"Why did I have a vision of the past?" Patrick quirks an eyebrow and leans back against the door. He blinks slowly and Brendon sees a flash of the vision invade his view. 

"How do you know it was of the past?" Patrick asks, eyes flickering for a moment. His shadow ripples behind him and Brendon tries not to glance over to it. 

"Because I wasn't there." Patrick blinks, ready to speak against that statement, but Brendon beats him to it. "Dallon's grandfather was there." Patrick's breathing hitches and his shadow looms higher than before, seemingly covering Patrick as though to shield him from something. "I think it was of that day."

"Oh." Brendon's taken aback by how the man is acting. Something is off and it's doing nothing to calm Brendon. Patrick clears his throat, straightens up and cocks his head, letting a small smile (though still eerily creepy) slip onto his face. "We better call for a meeting. If you're having visions of the past, well," Patrick shrugs a shoulder. "I guess you could say it's the end of all things dear." Brendon gulps and nods.

"Something wicked this way comes?" He asks, eyes portraying a fear that he knows Patrick will relish in. And he does. His smile widens to show the sharpness that used to haunt Brendon's dreams.

"Indeed it does."


	8. 7

Patrick taps his finger against the top of the wooden table. His head is resting on his other hand and his eyes roam around the room as Brendon and Dallon argue with each other.

"If you can't come to a conclusion soon, then maybe you should just let the rest of us leave until you can figure out how to solve your argument." Brendon and Dallon pause and they both shift their eyes to the bored man. 

"No." Patrick raises an eyebrow and stops his tapping.

"I'm sorry," He starts, a smile starting to form. "What was that?" His shadow grows and shifts behind him. Patrick's eyes are trained on Brendon and Dallon.

"I said no," Dallon repeats.

"And why is that?" Patrick asks, tilting his head slightly.

"Because this is your fault." Patrick's smile drop and his eyes gain a darker hue. "You didn't contain that creature and-" Patrick growls and rises from his seat, watching as the room takes a collective flinch back. Patrick's shadow eats all the light in the room until all that's left to brighten it is Patrick's eyes.

"Who's fault is that?!" Patrick yells, fingers digging into the wood and cracking it. The splintering sound makes Pete shift back some more. "It was your family who had me locked up! It was your family who didn't listen to me! I specifically said that I wasn't done with the containment spell but as soon as he was out of sight, they locked me away! It's your ancestor's fault that this is happening!" The noticeable shift in the air and in Patrick's voice is what makes Dallon straighten up.

"Really?"

"I wasn't like this before! This creature you made me! Your ancestors thought I was insane to begin with! Because I was different. I was something they didn't understand, a being so powerful they were scared of what might happen if I were left to wander the earth." Patrick grinds out, the table finally giving way. "You made me this way after years and years of torture. I died and died over and over again." Tears start to streak down the man's face. "You thought I was bad before? You haven't seen anything yet!" The world outside starts to shake and rumble. Lightning strikes and thunder crashes.

"Patrick stop!" Breezy yells, gripping onto Dallon tightly as a wind starts to pick up from inside the compound.

Patrick's body shifts, as does his shadow.

The once fair skin takes on years of damage. Scars mar his face and horns rip through his head, leaving bloody trails. His nails grow and take on a yellow shade. His hair flashes to a deathly white shade. The cardigan and pants are replaced with a black shirt and yellow tailcoat, followed by a pair of yellow trousers. Patrick blinks once and the ocean eyes are replaced with a piercing yellow, the pupils going verticle. 

"My dear children," Patrick starts, voice grinding against the nerves of everyone in the room. "You messed with the wrong God."


End file.
